


this is not about you

by crownsandbirds



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Dates, Drabbles, Living Together, Multi, Sexual Tension, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 05:21:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17933615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownsandbirds/pseuds/crownsandbirds
Summary: "He feels like he's in another dimension where everything fits where it should and they're getting married in the spring."drabbles.





	1. the entire history of rainy mornings

**Author's Note:**

> "I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re  
>  really there.  
> Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live?"
> 
> (litany in which certain things are crossed out - richard siken)
> 
> in which Kite and Pariston have an early morning conversation.

Kite moves like a dancer.

It's a lazy day, the skies grey and the wind slightly chilly. Paris leans back against the glass door and watches as Kite does their morning exercises on his balcony.

“Just going to keep watching?”, Kite asks as they balance on the rail that should, in theory, keep the people inside the penthouse away from the twelve-story drop. Kite's feet are bare, their slippers forgotten somewhere in the room they've occupied for the week, and they walk on their tiptoes absently, the sharp wind tugging at their hair.

Were it anyone else, Paris would consider that an invitation. As it is, he's still learning how to deal with Ging's student and their very particular brand of aloof honesty covering a desperate need for intimacy. 

He takes a sip of his morning coffee and settles on saying, “I don't need to do physical training for my ability.”

"Not at all?" Kite shifts quickly, turns upside down, balances on two fingers and starts doing push-ups. Their tank top rides up and exposes their unhealthily skinny body. Paris wants to kiss the pale skin on top of their ribs, wants to slash the space between their bones with a knife. “It might come in handy in a fight.”

Paris chuckles. He hasn't thrown a punch in years. “People don't get to fight me.”

“Huh," Kite says and turns back up, their hair falling messily over their face. Ging was nowhere to be found when they woke up, so it has yet to be brushed. "You'll have to show me this ability of yours one day.”

Paris imagines Kite’s beautiful body ensnared by the vicious pitch-black curls of his Nen, his big, gorgeous eyes glazing over as he loses all control of his will and mind and is left entirely at Paris’ mercy.

He licks his lips. It's not that bad of an image. The possibilities are endless. Still.

“You're too pretty to go through that.”

Kite snarls like the wild animal they are, and hides their face behind the silver curtain of their hair, but Paris can catch a glimpse of their flushed cheeks, and it makes him smile. 

"You want coffee?" Paris asks, because he doesn't want to let Kite have the time to close off again. He doesn't offer breakfast - he knows neither of them will eat unless Ging is here, and he isn't. In this, the two of them are the same. 

Kite is silent for a moment, but at last they sit down on the rail and mutters, "Chocolate."

"Perfect. I'll make you some. Come inside when you're done."

Kite hums in answer, kicks the air idly. 

“You should do so soon, though,” Paris says as he opens the glass door. “It's going to rain at any moment now.”


	2. shallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Here is the part where everyone was happy all the time and we were all  
>  forgiven,  
> even though we didn’t deserve it.  
>  Inside your head you hear  
> a phone ringing [...]"
> 
> (litany in which certain things are crossed out - richard siken)
> 
> in which Paris and Ging are young and go out in a date (of sorts).

"Are you doing anything after this?"

Ging side-eyes him with suspicion. "It's way too early for sex, Paris."

Ging is twenty-two and Pariston is nineteen and they have been making everyone's lives in the Association a living hell and it was only a matter of time until they officially met and fucked in the bathroom stall next to the meeting room. 

"Not what I had in mind," Paris says as he gathers up his notes and reports and carefully places them inside his suitcase. 

_ OCD _ , Ging's mind helpfully supplies.  _ And probably more. A lot more.  _

Pariston Hill is a black hole of cruelty and childhood trauma and manipulation. Ging's hands are itching with the urge to find out everything there is to know about this awful man. 

His morbid curiosity is going to be his downfall. 

“What did you want to do, then?”

Paris sighs, threads his fingers through his hair. “There's this bakery near my place. They make great macarons. I was wondering if you'd want to come with me.”

Ging blinks. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“If you consider driving around in my car and eating chocolate a date, then sure.”

“It's not about what I consider a date. That  _ is  _ a date.”

“Well, I'm _sorry_ if I don't have that kind of romantic experience to use as precedent, do you want to or not?”

The idea of going out on a date with Pariston Hill, the devil himself, to eat macarons in a bakery is so absolutely incomprehensible and paradoxical to Ging that he finds himself nodding. “I mean, why not?”

“Let's go, then.”

Paris drives carefully, both hands on the wheel. He has a pink fluffy charm, soft to the touch, hanging from the keys of his immensely expensive car. His musical taste ranges from nineteenth-century opera to epic metal and whimsical folk, and he knows the words to every single lyric.

“What?” Paris asks when he notices Ging staring. The sunlight makes him look like the nineteen-year-old boy he is. His brown eyes shine golden.

“Nothing. You sing nice.”

Pariston has a sweet singing voice. Pleasant and delicate, hitting all the right notes.

“Oh,” Paris tilts his head to the side, as if Ging is a particularly peculiar creature. “Thanks.”

The bakery is a small, cozy place in the corner of a hidden street. The employees call Paris by name and smile warmly to Ging. He feels like he's in another dimension where everything fits where it should and they're getting married in the spring.

“They _are_ great,” Ging says after he finishes his first macaron. It was a chocolate one, baby blue. 

Paris smiles over the yellow one he's eating. His lips are pretty, Ging realizes idly. He's pretty. “Aren’t they? Even Cheadle likes them, and Cheadle doesn't like anything.”

Ging takes a sip of his soft drink. Paris’ glass of sparkling water is sweating with condensation. “Cheadle is a bitch, but she's smart, which makes her even worse.”

“Oh, she's not that bad.”

“She  _ hates _ you.”

“She hates both of us. Did you notice she's growing out her hair now that she’s finished her residency?”

“Yes. Looks nice.”

It does look nice, soft, a gentle shade of green, down to her shoulders. Makes Paris want to wrap his fingers around it and pull until she gasps. 

He draws a little heart on the table with the water that slid down from his glass. "Maybe she wants to call Mizaistom's attention." 

Ging scoffs. "Mizaistom Nana? The lawyer who walks around like he has a stick up his ass?"

Paris smiles condescendingly. "Get used to the law school prom king and queen couple. Isaac says he wants them in that Zodiac thing he's planning.”

“Of course he does. They're nice to look at, both of them have a star, and worship the ground he walks on.”

That gets a giggle out of Paris. It's a soft, bright sound, and makes Ging choke on his drink. "You do know he wants both of us too, right?"

"He'd better. He won't stand a chance otherwise."

Paris props his chin up on his hand. "It's a boring paperwork job, though."

"Your favorite kind."

"And the kind you hate the most."

"Well," Ging gets up to get more macarons for them. He's becoming rather fond of the chocolate one. "if it gets boring, I'm leaving. And besides, if you're there it's more exciting."

Paris smiles with his perfect white teeth. 


End file.
